Stranger
by Elsie girl
Summary: "I was thankful my first name was normal. That's about the only thing I had to thank for my father for— that he didn't screw up my life by making my first name something inescapably awkward like his and his brother's, Ponyboy and Sodapop." But El hasn't seen her father in years, and just as she starts to accept she's on her own...Pony's back. Why? Please read & review!
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: This is an idea I just had to write. If there is any interest, I can easily post the next few chapters as they are pre-written. Hope you enjoy!_

Chapter 1:

I was thankful my first name was normal.

That's about the only thing I had to thank for my father for— that he didn't screw up my life by making my first name something inescapably awkward like his and his brother's, Ponyboy and Sodapop. Don't worry, the weird name was in there, hidden safely between the wonderfully bland "El" and the commonplace "Curtis". I made sure in first grade that the teacher only ever saw the middle initial "D" because if it had escaped into public knowledge even for a second that my father had intended to call me El Dorado Curtis, I'd have been humiliated by giggles that day and followed by it for the rest of my education. Kids learned to do a lot worse than giggle.

El Dorado. It didn't even sound feminine. The only time I even sort of liked it was in middle school when we read Poe's poem El Dorado. Now, that was kind of cool. I knew my father had been an avid reader and I wondered if he knew the poem, if that was why I was named that. I imagined my father liked Poe a lot, and I liked him too, so in a strange way we had something in common. In the poem, the knight keeps searching for El Dorado, but the journey just keeps dragging on, so I pictured my father out there looking for me. Maybe he was trying to find me and he just couldn't yet, I had thought then, like the knight in the poem. Maybe that's why he chose the name.

But that was over a year ago, back when I used to hope my dad would come walking down the block, smiling big, with some epic story of what kept him away, like Odysseus or something. I don't picture that anymore, and I don't imagine he named me El Dorado because he was out looking for me, unless the bastard already planned on leaving when he picked out my name.

But I didn't need him.

I had an uncle, Daryl Curtis, dad's oldest brother. He ran a roofing business and was sort of quiet and stern at once. I had an uncle named Two-Bit too who used play with me and watch Mickey Mouse cartoons, but he got in a wreck while driving drunk and went to prison for a while. Turns out he wasn't really my uncle, just friends of my dad and his brothers. Uncle Sodapop, who looked really friendly in his pictures, died in Vietnam when I was little. I didn't remember him at all. There was another not-uncle, Steve Randal. He was rather mean and grumpy, sometimes buying me treats and sometimes yelling at me for no reason. Darry said he didn't know how to treat kids because he was never treated right as youngster and he missed his best friend Soda, who I kind of looked like me with my blonde hair. I didn't care. I didn't mind that Steve wasn't my real uncle one bit.

Then, there was my mom. I didn't even resemble her. "If you hadn't come out of her, I wouldn't believe you were related." Her best friend Marcia teased me as usual that fateful summer between Jr. High and high school. My mom was very pretty with red hair. I was thin, freckly, and blonde. "You look like your father, or even your uncle Sodapop. We used to all think he was so cute!" Marcia giggled. I shrugged.

"Thanks for meeting me, Marcia." Mom had said, fanning herself with the diner menu.

"No problem." Marcia sipped her coke. "What do you want, sweetie?" She asked me. "A big slice of pie? It's on me."

"No, Marcia, really."

"Oh, Cherry, why don't you let me at least get hers? I never see her." Marcia called my mom Cherry even though he name was Sherrie. She said it was because of her hair, that everyone called her that in high school. No one called her that anymore. Her boss, the bank manager, just called her Ms. Valence, which wasn't her name either.

"Thank you, but no. She's my daughter and what I can afford is good enough for her." Marcia winked at me subtly and ordered herself some pie.

I sometimes wondered if my mom was some sort of secret agent like on TV because she was always working late and busy and knew people from all over town and each of them called her something else.

"I need to know if you and Randy can do what we talked about when El was born." My mom suddenly announced. Marcia stared at her. I was confused, but I knew what she'd say if I asked, 'never you mind'. The food came and I ate, watching them in silence.

"Cherry, what are you talking about?"

"Darry can't do it; he's too busy and he's got no woman around, but you and Randy, you're married. She's about to start high school. It wouldn't be long."

That did it. I couldn't hold in my curiosity any longer because they were clearly discussing me. "What wouldn't be long?"

"Hush and eat your lunch."

"Well, Cherry, I—I don't know. I'd half to talk to Randy."

"Ok." Mom nodded. "Well you do that and let me know what he says. I need to know soon."

"Cherry, what—?" Marcia began to ask; her voice full of concern alarmed me. I looked at mom. She was stoic and simply shook her head.

"Sweetheart, would you go and buy mama a paper please?" She handed me the change and pointed outside. I got up slowly. Outside, I watched them talk through the window with the corners of my eyes. Mom's face stayed normal, she even sort of smiled, but Marcia's expression didn't match. She looked pale.

I took my time coming back, not wanting to interrupt them and dragging my feet. I sensed something was wrong.

"Thank you." She shoved the paper in her purse without even glancing at the headline. I sat down and started poking at my burger again. "What's the matter, you don't like it?" Mom asked, getting angry.

"I don't feel good." I mumbled, unable to say what I was really feeling.

"Here," Marcia slid her pie to me. "I'm too full. Can't waste food." Her glance, uncharacteristically stern, matched my moms and cut off her protests. I looked to my mother for permission and she nodded, smiling defeated. I happily devoured my pie while the two sat in silence watching me. I tried to let whipped crème distract me from my feelings I didn't understand, the feeling that something bad was being hidden from me. The feeling that my life was about to change drastically.

I was right.

Six months later, my mom climbed from her old sting-ray with me in tow and walked up to a great brick mansion on the other side of town. I felt out of place and embarrassed. Mom looked determined, fuming, her scarf fluttering in the breeze and making the sun catch patches of her baldhead. An old woman answered the door.

"Sherry!" she exclaimed in surprise. Her wrinkled face grew cross. "What have you done to your hair?"

"I lost it from the cancer treatment." Mom answered hurriedly, no time to waste with all that. The woman's mouth closed with a snap, her expression unreadable. "Now, mama. This is your granddaughter. This is El." She jerked up my wrist the hand she was holding and the woman looked at me. I knew she was thinking I didn't look anything like my mama.

"Why are you here, Sherry? Do you need money for doctors? We can help." She seemed nice.

"No. I don't need anything. It's El here that does. I don't have long left and I've been to everyone I can think of…can you take her?"

I knew as well as she did this was not fair.

The old woman seemed confused, pained, as her voice answered slowly, "No. No, honey. We can't. Where's her father?"

Mom just stood there, her scarf flying angrily about her glowering face. "We are trying to get in touch with him. No word back yet. If he doesn't make it back in time can you take your grandchild?"

Grandmother explained, "We are too old to raise a child."

"She's in high school now!"

"Well, she's been raised in a different world. She wouldn't be happy here. She wouldn't do well. We're complete strangers to her."

"Strangers? You're her grandparents!" My mother was so angry she was whispering, her voice harsh. "A different world? Try five miles away her whole life and you've never even seen her since she was a baby!"

"Because you took her away!" Grandmother shot back, hurt. "We told you then that you couldn't come back if you went to live in sin with that useless father, who ran off and left both of you. We gave you some money, let you take that car, and your father got you that job at the bank, but if you weren't going to live properly and raise that child right," she pointed a thin finger at me. "We weren't going to stick around to watch it. Can't you see we were right?" She said sadly, her voice soft again. She reached for my mom, who snatched her arm away.

Grabbing my arm forcefully and wrenching me around, my mother fled down the stairs and back to the car, tears spilling down her thinning face.

"Sherry!" The voice called behind us. Mom ignored it, peeling out of the neighborhood.

"It's ok, mama. I can take of myself." I told her to stop her from crying. She pulled over, sobbing, and pulled me into a hug. "I mean it. I do my homework on my own. I walk to school. I keep my room clean. I cook. I can do all that."

"Can you tell yourself I love you every day?"

"Sure."

"Okay." She said, wiping her face. "I did for myself; I don't see why you can't do the same."

That's just what I did. After a month passed, I walked to school and did my homework and cooked and kept my room clean at Uncle Daryl's. After more time passed, those things became easier. The part that got harder was looking in the mirror every day at that face so different from my mom—at that blonde hair and freckles—and saying where no one could hear, "I love you."

Before I knew it, it was Thanksgiving, and I was working after school at the diner where my mom and Marcia had met up that day. I was about to end my shift as the evening crowd came in, mostly rough boys and families who had burned dinner.

I was trying to list what I was thankful for, as I was supposed to turn in a paper on it tomorrow. All I could think of was that I didn't have to live with my rich grandparents and no one knew my deadbeat dad was nuts and named me some made up name. And my job. It was a good place to work and the boss was fair, partial to me actually. Thankful I had straight As even though I couldn't play sports after school, or be in plays, or run for student government because I had to work.

I stayed in Darry's house mostly, so I didn't have bills or anything grown up to worry about. I ate at school and the diner so most of my money was saved, for college. The Socs I handed milkshakes to had no clue I had bank account with the same interest rate as theirs and probably as much in college savings. They didn't know I lived alone, free. They didn't know I had a secret name. Of that I was thankful. And I was thankful, truth be told, my dad had not showed back up when my mom died. Because I'd hate to have some stranger waltz into my life and start telling me what to do. I didn't need him anymore.

I wiped the counter and slipped out of my apron just as a thin man, middle aged, graying hair walked in. I didn't recognize him. I was not about to let last Stacey start her shift late again. She pouted as I pointed him out.

I hopped up onto a counter stool to wait for customers to slack off so I could order some dinner as usual. The boss didn't mind. In fact, Lois insisted.

I half noticed the man sat next to me because I was watching a group of seniors from school getting too loud in the corner.

"What can I get you?" Lois's lazy niece asked, bored.

"Ladies first." The man said, gesturing to me.

"Oh no, customers first." I told him. "House rules."

"Well, what are you having? What's good?"

I wasn't thrilled that this old guy was chatting with me. I'd had them offer to drive me home, pinch my leg, and all kinds of weird stuff hit before. He seemed like a gentleman though, new to town or just passing through. I thought I'd help him out.

"Well they are having Thanksgiving stuff tonight, but I wouldn't risk it personally. They make a mean bacon cheeseburger, but I like the Monte Cristo. It's a grilled cheese with tomato and bacon."

"Sounds good! I like the name. What do you get with it?"

I shrugged. "I get tomato soup."

"I'll have two of those please, and two soups. And a strawberry shake."

"Hungry?" I laughed. Stacey glared at me.

"No, one is for you. My treat."

"Oh no, you don't have to."

"I know. For the favor… and the holidays." He seemed to really want to, so I let him since Stacey had already snatched the money from his extended hand.

"Thanks."

"No problem."

"Two Counts and a couple of 'mater soups. Pink shake." Stacey yelled, yawning as she pinned the order.

Her aunt reached from the kitchen and whacked her, jolting her awake. "Cover your mouth!" She yelled.

"You not spending the holiday with family?" I asked, trying to make small talk as we sat there in silence, the only people at the bar, neither with anything to read.

"Actually," he shifted in his seat, looking at his hands. "I'm on my way to see family."

"Oh. That's good." I said. I guessed that's what you said to that.

"What about you? Your parents let you work Thanksgiving night?"

I shrugged, not feeling like explaining since he already pitied me and I saw no reason he should know I would go home alone either. "They are working too."

"I see." He answered, but he sounded unconvinced. I looked at him in surprise as I was usually a fantastic liar. We were interrupted by our food being set unceremoniously before us.

"Let me know if you need anything…" Stacy was already walking away as she recited.

He put up his hands. "A knife?"

I rolled my eyes ducking under the counter and retrieved him one along with a straw.

"Thanks!" He smiled. "This is good."

I nodded. I didn't speak anymore after that because the moment the food touched my lips I suddenly realized I was starving. I ate ravenously. I think he was looking at me, but my self control was gone. He didn't say anything more either. Maybe he'd find it unattractive and leave me alone.

"But he insisted on buying hers too!" Stacey was emerging from the kitchen with her aunt Lois, whining.

"Now, El, what have I told you about flirting with the customers?" Lois joked carrying apple pie out from the back. She stopped when she saw him. I wondered if she was worried because he was so old, like he might try to grab me. She just sort of stared, then, not saying a word, put the pie on the counter. It went fast.

The boys from the table in the corner arrived too late and were angry, like brats.

"Hey! We want some pie!" They pounded the counter I had just cleaned with their gravy fingers.

The man next to me stiffened, frowning at them.

"Well you'll have to wait until the next one comes out. It'll be ten minutes and I'll have a coconut crème."

"We want apple."

"Well too damn bad." Lois told them, unimpressed.

The kids, rich jocks by the looks of it, shared an expression like a pack of stray dogs, then approached a poor family with too many kids piled into a booth. "Hey you're not going to eat that, are you?" he poked a scared looking kid with his finger. The kid flinched. "I'm talking to you."

"Just eat your dinner." His thin father instructed, looking nervous in his corner, his arm around the little girl.

If I had been a dog, I'd have been growling.

"You want this?" The man slid the shake my way. "I've lost my appetite."

I shook my head, lying. He did not slide it back toward himself. I watched the boys harass the family for a few minutes, then take the apple pie from the boy's plate. He whimpered. They laughed and mocked him. The boy looked pleadingly to his father, a string bean of a man compared to the jocks, who shook his head and told him, "Share with your sister."

Fathers. Even when they hung around they were useless. Filled with sympathy for the kid, I stood up. I didn't even know why or what I planned to do,

"You mean this?" another boy asked, stealing her piece as well. The little girl started to cry. The father shushed her, refusing to look at the crooks now guffawing with their crimes.

Stacey came in obliviously with the pie. I put a finger to my lips and took it from her. She blinked dumbly. In my other hand, I carried the shake I didn't want.

The man was watching me curiously until he saw I was headed toward the table of conflict. He whispered, reaching to pull the back of my shirt, "No, kid."

I gave him a look meant to indicate I could handle it. And a few seconds later everyone was looking at me. I stood before the family, looking puzzled, and the teens who looked amused. I had a pie in one hand, a pink shake in the other, and was filled with rage.

"Hey," one of the boys laughed. "Thanks for bringing us our pie, babe."

I hated that name. Defiantly, I set the pie at the far end of the table. A three-year-old boy instantly threw his hands over it to protect it.

"Hey! That was ours! You stole our pie."

"No you stole theirs. Now it's even. Pay Lois for the pie."

"No way!" one shouted, shoving forward. The room changed. The man at the bar stood and Lois appeared. "Like hell." Another one vowed.

"Yes way! And you can put a nickel in the jar for swearing in here too." Lois informed them.

"The hell I will, lady. This brat just gave my pie to this trash." He grabbed my arm and without thinking, I threw the milkshake all over his face. So that was why I brought it. Nice thinking, subconscious me.

Or maybe not. He squeezed my bicep hard. I tried not to wince.

"Keep harassing my employee and see how fast I call the cops on you!" Lois shouted, grabbing the phone.

He angrily wiped the frigid milk and ice cream from his eyes, his clothes stained pink, his friends laughing. He lifted me clear off the ground and my eyes filled with tears I refused to let fall. The kids below me gasped. Lois was on the phone.

"Hey!" The man yelled, suddenly standing close, right over my captor's shoulder. His hand, rather large for such a slim man, squeezed just above the collarbone, getting the jock's attention. "Let her go."

"What's it to you?"

"I said let her go. Stop bullying children and young girls. You're hurting her."

He twisted my arm a little and I gasped, my knees giving.

"So?" He asked, his voice dark and dangerous.

I was not about to be beaten like this, not in public in front my boss, Stacey, and a total stranger. My face was somewhere around his waist. I did the only thing I could. I bit. I bit down at whatever was near my face as hard as I could stand and didn't let go. I wanted to feel my teeth come together. I want to taste blood.

He yelped like a little hound dog. Then, he jumped around doing a little dance until my jaw cramped up and I let him go. I tried to dart away but his friends grabbed me from behind.

"Little bitch!"

"Hey!" There was a hard, crunching sound as the stranger's fist collided with the side of the speaker's face. Both were covered with blood instantly, like a magic trick. "Don't you dare call my daughter a bitch."

I was in shock from my own actions, from the pain in my shoulder, from the sight of the blood, and the commotion that followed. Sirens approached. I looked up at the stranger from where I found myself sitting on the floor and vaguely remembered he'd said the strangest thing a moment ago. Something which could not possibly be, but what was it?

"Are you okay?" he was asking me now, kneeling before me. "She's in shock." He told Lois.

"You better get out of here. The boys are long gone. They'll take our statements." She nodded to the family, not giving them a choice.

"No, we'll stay. Won't it look bad if we run?"

She narrowed her eyes at him a little. "It will look worse if you stay. They know you, Ponyboy Curtis."

Holy. Shit.

He nodded, looking a little abashed, and helped me up as gingerly as he could. "Through the back." I panted.

"No, they'll be expecting that. We'll walk down the street normal." He murmured close to my ear as he helped me up.

We did as he said, treading slowly down the sidewalk as sirens screaming closer and closer. "Don't look back."

"In here!" Lois was waving them down, trying to divert their attention. We rounded the corner, slipped into an alley behind the laundromat, sprinted, made another turn and then another and ended up taking the long way back to Darry's neighborhood along the train tracks.

I was thankful I wasn't arrested on thanksgiving.

_A/N: Thanks for reading. Please take a second and leave a review!_


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Thank you for reading and for leaving reviews! Love them. Hope you enjoy this next chapter and don't forget to tell me what you think.

Chapter 2

"You need a doctor for that should or you think ice will do it?" My go-to shrug was now impossible with my injured shoulder, so I didn't answer. "Are you, okay?" Ponyboy Curtis asked, looking so much older and thinner had in his photos that he wasn't easily recognizable. Or at least, he sure had not been to me.

Again, I didn't know what to say… Where was his explanation? Where was his odyssey? His quest?

"El, say something or we are going to the hospital." He stopped in his tracks.

"I'm okay." I answered, not looking up as I passed him and continued along the tracks.

"Okay," he agreed cautiously. He began walking slowly again, relieved, it seemed, that I was

"What happened to all that fire I saw in there?" He tried to jibe. "You reminded me so much of your mom, yelling at Dallas Wintson at the drive-in like nothing scared her in the world." He shook his head affectionately, smiling. It made me mad, the way he thought he could talk about her like that when she was dead, when he'd left her. The way he spoke about her being wild and young and fiery, like he was before I knew her, made me mad too. Like she was before she had me.

"Now you look like me, brooding, quiet, thinking too much." He said from a few feet behind me, balancing on the railroad tracks like I was. "I bet you read a lot too." Who the hell did this guy think he was? I didn't want to give him the satisfaction of being right, so I lied.

"I like math."

"Really?" What was up with his freaking lie detector power anyway?

"You run fast?" I felt his eyes on my lean calves. I did, but I didn't have time to be on track. "I go to school and I work. If I'm running it's from those jerks or the cops."

"The cops? You been in trouble?" Hell no. This guy's voice was actually taking on a fatherly tone. He was going to get in my business, a complete stranger, and actually scold me. How'd he even learn that tone? Maybe from Darry, but who the hell was he to use it on me like I had not done just fine without him over the last years?

I wanted to snap, "What's it to you?" But that wasn't what I meant. I meant something a whole lot more hurtful. So I waited for the words to come, giving him none.

"I guess I can't say much about it if you were." He admitted. I was surprised, but I didn't give him the satisfaction of knowing it. I kept silent, my head down, trying to walk ahead of him.

It was still several blocks from Darry's. I didn't want to talk anymore. Out of the blue, there was a shout to our left. We jumped. There came Steve Randall, striding towards us with a wide grin plastered on his face and his arms open, exposing his bare chest smeared with oil. "Ponyboy Curtis!"

"Hey Steve!" Ponyboy accepted Steve's tight hug.

"Glad you're back, man. Darry told me. Where you been?" Steve asked, like he had been away for a week or something.

"It's a long story."

"Yeah, well I'll bring over some beers and we can all catch up. Two Bit got out of jail a little while ago."

"Yeah Darry said…that's rough. El, wait up." Pony called to my back. So he didn't forget me, I saw. I slowed my pace but didn't stop. I wasn't a trained dog. "Look maybe tomorrow night on the beers. I need to uh spend some time with my daughter."

"Yeah. Sure. School night. Alright, I'll bring it over tomorrow and I'll tell Two Bit too. Have some food when I get there."

"Yeah ok!" He laughed, clapping the older man on the back and hustling to catch up with me.

"El, slow down. Wait a minute would you? I want to talk to you before we get there."

I was close by then; I could see the house.

"What about?" I said, leaning against the side of a house.

"Everything." I raised an eyebrow, waiting. He sighed. "That's not how I wanted to meet up. I was a long way away and hard to contact, but when I heard about your mom from Darry, I rushed back. I got back this morning and found out…Look, I talked to Darry and he told me where you worked because I didn't want to disturb you at school. I figured I'd come by, buy you diner, introduce myself, let you take a swing at me, and we'd come back here."

I nodded to let him know I was listening, but looked mostly at the ground. I avoided his eyes as he tried to catch mine. We had the same eyes and it was the only part of him I clearly remembered from my early childhood.

"How's the arm?"

"It's fine."

"Does it hurt?"

"Like hell."

"Come on, let's get some ice on it." He held out his hand to say after me and let it touch the small of my back as I walked in front of him. The contact made me feel like there was ice water hitting my stomach.

Darry was standing on the porch waiting for us. His hair line receding, his big arms wrapped around himself, he was beaming proudly at his little brother and pulled him into a one-armed hug as soon as he made it up the steps. "Hey what about this little guy, huh? Finally made it back home! We are going to celebrate this."

I walked past him into the door. "What is your problem?" Darry snapped. "Get back out here. Aren't you happy to see your dad?" He swung open the screen door as I went for the freezer. "Isn't what you've been bugging me for every Christmas for years?" I winced, but not at the pain in my throbbing shoulder. I really wished he had not said that in front of …him. I had not said anything about that in a long time. "This is your father, El Dorado Curtis and you—"

"Darry, please." He interrupted. "She's in shock."

"Yeah, okay." Darry's voice softened. He sat down in front of the news.

I put a bag of frozen peas on the joint, but it still ached. I closed my eyes.

"I didn't mention it," I jumped at the whisper behind me. "I figured Darry would freak out if he knew we'd gotten in a fight. Is that helping?"

I looked up at him only because I couldn't manage to speak. I shook my head, eyes watering. He nodded to show he understood and frowned in concern, pulling out a chair from the kitchen. I sat. He took the peas and began boiling water. He was behind me before I could protest, gently rubbing one shoulder while placing the peas on the injured one with a light pressure. He removed it every minute or so to keep it from getting too cold. When the water was whistling, he told me to hold it in place.

Darry was watching. "Hurt her shoulder at work." His brother explained for me. The other man nodded from the couch, drinking a beer.

"Here," he replaced the peas with a hot rag. The warmth felt tingly and great. He threw the peas back in the freezer. "Tell me when it cools off."

I nodded. He went into the bathroom and shut the door, returning a few moments later with some aspirin. He handed me two with a glass of water and I took them, not feeling up to protesting. After he put the glass in the sink, I handed him the now cool towel. He turned the water back on and pulled some steaks out of the fridge, slapping them on shoulder. I bit my lip to keep from yelping.

I counted the seconds, breathing shallow and quick until the water squealed again and the hot rag was ready. With the heat came relief, but as the rag lost its magic touch, the pain seemed to worsen. I dumped the useless thing in the sink and went to write that stupid paper.

"Let me see it." Darry's voice rumbled behind me, though he was not speaking loudly.

"It's okay." I almost stuttered. Uncle Darry didn't have the softest hands. He took hold of it without waiting for permission, and struggling would only hurt. His hands felt warm and pleasant at first, then he pushed.

"Ouch! Damnit!" I yelled.

"Language." He warned. "It was out of place. It's back now."

I rolled it and massaged it, but it did hurt less. "Thanks." I scowled at him. Ponyboy looked on from the kitchen, seeming a little disappointed.

"You can't be going to bed yet?" Darrry asked as I went into my room. "I'm making a cake."

"I have a paper due tomorrow."

"Right, well don't let me interfere with schoolwork." Ponyboy smiled and went to sit by his brother on the couch.

There low voices carried through the thin walls. I couldn't make out their conversation with the door closed and tv on, it was mostly just low rumbles, but I didn't want to hear it. I stared at the paper for about thirty minutes.

I had three possible topics, all crossed out.

_I am thankful for the time I had with my mom._ That was true, but the essay wouldn't be very nice. Mom had been busy, and hard on me, and lonely, and at times resentful I think. I didn't blame her, but I didn't want to let anyone else judge her. Not anymore.

I didn't like to write about my mom. It made me cry.

_I'm thankful I am an only child._ That was a lie. I always wanted brothers and sisters. I just didn't want them to be in the same boat I was or my mom to have two mouths to feed.

_I'm thankful I am independent. _

I tried again. What the hell?

_I'm thankful that today, after eleven years, my father Ponyboy Curtis walked back into my life. Never mind he couldn't even call or write in over a decade to see if I was dead or alive. Never mind the fact that since I am nearly grown he serves no purpose now except to play overprotective father to alleviate his own guilt. Never mind that he's about a year too late to keep me from being left with nowhere else to go when my mother died. I'm just thankful that he's decided to grace us with his presence after all. _

I marked heavily through all the caddy stuff, leaving sentence one.

_Paragraph one: because now my dad can protect me. _

Yeah, here's a funny story of us getting in a fight and running from the cops.

_Paragraph two: Because now we can spend Christmas together. _

Actually, I had to work. And he never said if he was staying, I realized.

_Paragraph three: Because now I have someone to walk me down the aisle._

As if I would ever get married… Who was I kidding? This was a joke. I tore the paper into shreds and threw it out. I returned to:

"_I'm thankful I am independent. It is a thing many people will never know. Many children are dependent on their parent's wealth, status, and careers. This allows them their transportation and their futures in college. My transportation is my own two feet and my savings and academic scholarship are my college ticket—my own achievements. _

_Even many grown women still marry and become dependent on their husbands. They take on traditional roles and even working women struggle to make as much as men in the workplace. My mother led by example. She took care of herself and me on her own. I know I can do the same._

_Being independent may mean working hard and sacrificing some things you could have, like spending time after school playing a sport or acting instead of working. However, being independent also gives you a sense of freedom others cannot know. You decide what you are going to do, from when you brush your teeth to what you want to be when you grow up. You come and go as you please and say and think whatever you believe without having to please someone else. People cannot take anything away from you because you got it for yourself. You do not ever have to be afraid that something bad will happen and leave you alone because you are already alone and you know how to handle it; you know you will be alright."_

Well that was something. Feeling a little less hopeless, I grabbed some clothes and went to take a shower. I pretended not to notice when they stopped talking as I walked through.

I switched on the radio in the bathroom as usual. Ignoring the fact I was running up the bill, I just stood in the water and let it roll over me. While the band begged somebody to please not go, I didn't sing along as usual. I didn't make a sound. When I finally emerged, I noticed Ponyboy was no longer sitting in front of the TV.

"Night." I called to Uncle Darry as usual.

"Night." He grunted, eating chocolate cake.

I jumped when I opened my door. He was standing in my room, leaning over my desk, reading my paper.

"What are you doing?" I blurted.

"Nothing." He shook his head. "Sorry. It was out. I was just glancing at it while I waited."

"Well, it's just a dumb draft of this stupid paper for tomorrow. Why were you waiting anyway?"

"I wanted to talk to you for a minute." His voice and his eyes were soft, almost sympathetic. I watched him skeptically as I put away my stuff and got ready for bed. "Can I see your shoulder?"

"It's fine."

"Okay." He agreed. "Today when I found out I was too late, I wanted to go straight to the cemetery and pay my respects. Then I felt like maybe, I don't know, maybe you'd like to go with me, show me the place. Maybe we could talk about your mom."

I shook my head slowly, forcing myself not to punch him or sob.

"Okay, if you're not up for it, I understand. I know I have a lot of explaining to do; I know I'm probably just a stranger to you." He actually looked sad. "I know I missed so much El, but no one wanted to be here more than me. Where I've been, it wasn't somewhere I'd have rather been. I just need you to know that before you go one minute thinking about it."

He was looking my in the eyes carefully, then he extracted his wallet. I thought he was going to offer me money. "Look," he handed me a photo. "Do you remember that? You were probably too young. I carried it with me and I looked at it every day, so if you want to hate me for not being here when your mom died or hate me for being a crappy dad fine, but don't hate me for not thinking of you because I was."

I didn't want to look at it, but I did. I did remember. We were laying in the grass, side by side, looking at clouds and naming them when someone snapped a picture.

"I remember." I handed the picture back to him.

"Whenever you're ready to talk, I'll be here."

"You're staying?"

"Of course." I shrugged. He tried to smile and squeezed out of my door, letting me crawl into bed. I didn't know where he was going to sleep, since where I slept used to be his and Sodapop's room. I hadn't even thought to ask. I just wasn't used to having to worry about other people.

I woke up the next morning with my shoulder aching. I was used to the place being empty when I got up, Uncle Darry already gone, but Ponyboy was in the kitchen making eggs.

"Morning!" He said cheerfully. "Want some eggs? You still like them scrambled with toast or I am stupid to even ask?"

"That's good." I answered sleepily. I read over my paper with a pencil in hand trying to finish it, or make it bearable in daylight. "Thanks." I ate absentmindedly as he sat across from me, reading the newspaper.

"How's the paper coming?"

"Sucks." I slammed it down, giving up and grabbing my stuff. "I gotta go."

"See you later."

"Bye."

Well, that was easy enough.

I actually walked half way to school before I realized I was not going. There was no point in being there physically when I was not going to be there mentally. Especially if I being physically there meant turning in crap for a grade.

I walked around town for a while. All my friends were in school. The only kids skipping were sketchy, smoking at the park.

_I'm thankful my first name is normal. I drafted mentally. You have no idea how close I came to being known as a total idiot. Bad things happen to people who have silly names in my family—uncles get killed in foreign jungles. Dads disappear, moms with odd nicknames get cancer, and almost uncles go to jail. Darry had a normal name a normal job; Steve had a normal name and he hung around. All scientific data supports weird names cause tragedy. _

But secretly, I did have a weird name. Did that mean I was going to end up a tragedy too?

It was noon when I heard a voice behind me, pulling me from my thoughts. I felt a hand on my arm.

"Hey kiddo." A voice rumbled behind me, an unfamiliar voice. "Is school canceled?"

Trying to stay calm so as to not wrench my arm out again, I turned to stare at my attacker.

It was my father.

I just sort of stared at him. I'd never really been caught skipping before.

"Let's take a walk." It didn't really seem like a suggestion, so I followed.

We continued to walk the city a while, not speaking. He broke the silence.

"I expected more questions."

"What do you mean?"

He shrugged. "I knew the questions would be hard. I dreaded some of them, but I thought you'd have stuff you wanted to know. You just seem not too affected whether I'm here or gone, is that true?"

"It's definitely different." I said.

He sighed.

"I went to see your mom."

"I don't want to talk about that."

"Would you rather talk about why you skipped school?"

"What's there to talk about? Are you following me?"

"No. I was downtown and I spotted you. You're not exactly subtle, you know? So why did you skip?"

No one had ever really asked me why I did something before. I wasn't sure what type of response he wanted.

"I don't know. Why does it matter? I skipped. What are you going to do about it?"

He didn't seem to like that answer. He paused a moment.

I walked on without him. This was utterly ridiculous.

"El," he called.

"Go bother somebody else." I mumbled, unsure if he heard me. I wasn't used to being followed.

He was still behind me. I could hear his feet trotting steadily behind me, picking up to match my speed even as I was nearly jogging aimlessly down the street. So I did the only thing I knew how to do. I ran. Childish yes. Pointless? Indeed. Rewarding? Extremely.

He raced behind me at first, the scratching of his sneaker soles and his uneven breath close by, but after a while, he wasn't able to keep up, so I burst into a sprint, turned a few corners, and lost him. I was so elated, I ran for miles after that.

I thought, _I'm thankful I'm a fast runner._


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

The thing about running is, when you run as far as you can, you forget you have to make the same journey back. My legs were aching and my side cramping as I trekked back home. Sunset came and went. It was still just me and the pavement. I pushed my feet to beat nightfall, but they were not cooperative. Being out late by myself wasn't the best idea.

As I neared the house, I saw a truck outside. Three men, Steve and possibly Ponyboy and another, were loading it up. Darry was speaking from the porch. The whole scene, carried out by shadows in the twilight, was weird and gave me a strange feeling. I approached cautiously, trying not to look too interested in the truck that was being filled to the brim.

"Hey, does this go too, Pony?" Steve called, carrying a box of books to the truck.

So he was leaving. Some try he had given it, I mentally huffed. Obviously, he had realized he wasn't wanted around there. He wasn't needed. So be it. I tried writing mentally, I'_m thankful my dad is leaving. _It didn't really work.

"Hey girly!" Two bit yelled, grabbing me and hugging me.

"Welcome back." I smiled at him a little tiredly and poked him in the ribs with my finger, making him wince. No one seemed too worried about me being in late. They were busy.

"You seen Kevin yet?" I asked him.

"Heck no. that boy don't want to see me." Two bit said of his son, trying to hide his disappointment with a scoff.

"Sure he does." I told him, knowing my friend was just being stubborn.

I walked inside and poured some water. Darry said nothing to me, which meant he was clueless about my skipping school. He didn't look upset at all about pony leaving either.

"Busy day?" Ponyboy's voice surprised me from behind. He gave me a significant look, eyebrows raised and head lowered.

"Where you going?" I asked flatly.

"A few blocks away. I got a house. It's for you as well if you want to. You don't have to move in right away. I told Darry not until you were ready. I just want to things settled for when you do. Make it proper home, you know? Would you like to come see it later?"

"First—" Two Bit interrupted. "We are going to get rip roaring drunk and eat pizza and play loud music and celebrate this prodigal's return! Yee-haw." He shouted, beer already in hand true to his word and from.

"Yeah ok." Ponyboy laughed. "Maybe tomorrow you can help me move some stuff in since there is no school. I know you'd hate to miss it."

No. He. Didn't. "I work tomorrow." I informed him.

"Maybe after." He tried again.

Well, I at least had to give him credit for being persistent. Not that he bothered to announce why he was being persistent all the sudden. He had said he expected questions, but questions were hard things to ask, like, why did you leave me? I realized he was still waiting for my answer and I'd been standing in a cloud of thoughts for several seconds.

"Sorry. Yeah. Maybe after. You find a job yet?"

If we were going to be handing out jabs, I might as well point out the fact that between the two of us, it was the kid and not the adult who actually had a job.

Steve whistled at the remark. Apparently, my attitude was not well concealed.

"Yes, actually." Well was he going to make me beg for every detail. I huffed in frustration, grabbing a slice of pizza from the box as Darry paid the delivery guy, saying thank you, and heading for my room.

"Aren't you the least bit curious where it is?"

I shrugged, leaning on the door frame.

"Well, I start next week, as a substitute teacher for the district middle and high schools." I choked on my cheese.

"You're what?"

"Well that's what I do, or what I did, when I was gone. I'm a teacher. And until an actual spot in town comes open an old friend of mine that's now a principle helped me get the position as a substitute."

"Assuming a spot ever comes open for you that is. Maybe try changing your name." Steve suggested, his mouth full of food. Two Bit laughed. Darry was watching us carefully, like he watched a referee who was about to make an important call in a big game.

All I could think of was all the kids over the past years he'd listened to, or told not to run, or said better luck next time to as he patted them on the back, reminded them to do their homework, or – well, there was just no point in thinking about it. I always hopped he'd been doing something really awful or dangerous. He had said he had been somewhere he didn't want to be, right? But he'd been a teacher. He hadn't forgotten. He'd had classes full of kids to remind him her had one.

I wasn't really hungry anymore. I threw out the rest of my pizza and washed my hands. Pony was just staring at me befuddled. He wasn't the only one who found it odd that my father being a teacher made me furious.

"Relax, El," Darry said in that cautious voice he reserved for females. "What are the chances he will even have to sub any of your classes?"

"Come on, I'm not that bad." He tried to joke. He was smiling, but his eyes looked fearful.

I quickly surmised that it was in fact my father from whom I inherited my inability to hide my emotions. My mother had a perfect pokerface.

"_I'm glad you don't." She used to say. "I can tell when you should be in trouble."_

I tried to think of something to say in a voice that was nonchalant. "Won't kill me or anything, but this paper might."

The men began their little celebration and I sat in my room to finish the paper.

_What am I thankful for? Think, El!_

It became impossible to concentrate. As the music got louder, so did Two Bit and Steve who proceeded to wrestle to the floor. Someone named Shepard dropped by to see if the rumors were true. I tried to listen to the story or excuse my father offered these guys, but I couldn't hear that either.

Annoyed, I shut my door. That was it. I was fourteen, and it was Friday night. I pulled out my mom's bag of makeup from when she worked at the bank. It smelled like her. I curled my eyelashes and put on some mascara and light pink eye shadow, a little power and blush, and some pink lip gloss. I ran a brush through my hair, trying to puff it out. I tugged on my boots and examined myself in the mirror.

I didn't look anything like my mother.

I did look like I could cheer at school. But I didn't. I didn't do any of those things.

My clothes would have to do it; jeans and a clinging light pink sweater.

"See you," I commented making my way to the front door.

"Where are you going?"

"Out. It's Friday night." I said coolly as of this were the most normal thing in the world. For many, I guessed it was.

They all looked at each other, Pony mostly. He didn't feel he could stop me but he was waiting for someone to do it. I bit back a laugh.

"Don't drink too much, don't mix liquor, don't leave your drink, and for god's sakes don't drink and drive." Two Bit offered wisely.

"Easy. Don't have a car."

"Be careful." Uncle Darry added solemnly.

"Right." I nodded. Steve starred at the TV. I supposed that was it.

_I'm thankful no one tells me what to do…_But that wasn't exactly true either.

I did gain some amusement however from my father's horrorstricken expression as I left the house alone.

"Need a ride?" He called from the porch.

"No thanks!" I called back without turning.

"Your legs aren't tired?" He shouted at my back.

"They're fine!" I insisted stubbornly. They were already tired. I rounded the corner before I needed to just to escape his questions.

Then came the difficult part: I had absolutely no idea where I was going. I worked and made straight As. It's not like I had a ton of options. I did have some spending money. I guessed I could go to the arcade. That seemed to be a popular hangout that wasn't too rough or expensive.

I walked that way and although it wasn't far I was thinking already of how I'd rather just go to bed when out of nowhere a loud motorcycle cut in front of me. It was solid black as was everything the rider was wearing, including his helmet. He circled me menacingly, stirring up dust and revving his engine. I glared at him, wishing my legs weren't already threatening to cramp up in case I had to split in a hurry. Just as I considered darting, the bike stopped, long legs touching down, and the rider took off his helmet.

I smiled. "Kevin! I didn't recognize you with that helmet. That's really nice. Where did you get it?"

"You mean how did I pay for it? Relax, I didn't lift it. I fixed and engine for a guy who used to have one, but can't ride anymore from his war injuries. He didn't have money to pay me so he gave me this old helmet."

"That's great! Now when you wreck you won't crush your head."

"Got to protect the goods."

"Your brain?"

He feigned shock, "My dashing good looks." Kevin wasn't exactly dashing. He wasn't unattractive, certainly some girls at school thought he was cute, but he was normal. Average height, average build, hazel eyes, and thick black hair that was his nicest feature. But to me he was just…so…Kevin. His smile was what endeared him to me, and to so many others. It often got him out of trouble where the rest of Kevin so often got him in trouble. He always joked that his smooth smile did almost all his talking for him and that it was the only thing his father ever gave him. It did look exactly like his dad. They even laughed alike.

"So your dad is back in town." I began.

"Yeah." He laughed. "I hear yours is too. Want to talk about it?"

I realized it was true. It still sounded weird. "Want to talk about Two Bit?" I asked, already knowing his answer.

"Not really," He shook his head.

I nodded. "He got a job teaching at the school. As a sub. Can you believe that?"

Kevin shook his dark mane of hair. "Two Bit or Pony?"

"Pony." It felt weird calling him by his first name aloud, although Kevin did it all the time. For him, it was his way of asserting that man wasn't really a father to him. It meant they could get along well enough because, after all, who couldn't get along with Two Bit? But he was always gone, in jail or off drunk, while Kevin lived with his mom. Calling Pony by his first name wasn't the same though. But saying 'dad' didn't come out right either.

"Well, that's awkward. He's a teacher?"

"Apparently. How screwed up is that he's been watching other people's kids this whole time?"

He blew out a puff of air slowly. "Pretty messed up. Did he say why he left yet?"

"Nope. Wants me to ask or something."

"Why?"

"No idea." I drew in the dirt my shoe. "Probably dumb answer anyway."

"Yeah." He just sort of grunted. "At least he wasn't in jail. Two Bit is away because of his own self. Maybe Pony's really wasn't his fault. Maybe you should ask."

"Yeah I'll go to his house and knock on the door and say: why did you leave me?"

"His house?"

"Apparently, he got one."

"You're not invited?"

I shrugged. "I am when I'm ready."

"Huh."

I wasn't ready. I didn't know if I would ever be.

"Maybe you should go see Two Bit. He asked about you, you know?"

"No, he didn't." Kevin shook his head, throwing his helmet up and catching it. I tried to conceal the blush I got when someone called me on a lie.

"He wants to see you. He just said you didn't want to see him."

"What did you say?"

"I said you did, you were just being stubborn." I smiled shyly under his attempt at a glare. I knew he wouldn't really be mad. I didn't have to explain myself to Kevin. That was what made hanging around him the easiest, since we were kids. Although, as we got older, mom liked us spending time together less and less.

"_I swear, El," she told me. "It's like that boy comes around and you're another kid; you get into trouble you wouldn't dream up on your own." _

"So I was thinking, since I have a helmet now…" He looked up hopefully. "Maybe you will take a ride with me?"

I considered it. My legs were tired and behind me there was no hope of peace. I shifted on my feet.

"But if I wear it, what will you do?"

"Hell, girl, if we hit anything I'll jump off and fly through the air."

I giggled. "You're dumb."

"Well," he slapped the seat behind him. "If that's true, what's the loss of I scramble my brains?"

And I thought, what the hell? Why not? Maybe I disappear for the night. Maybe I skip town and go to Vegas with this guy. He'd do it if I asked. Maybe I'm gone ten years. Maybe this is how this happens. Maybe this is how you disappear.

_I'm thankful I'm invisible._

_a/n: Thanks for reading! Reviews are much appreciated!_


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I don't own any characters, The Outsiders, etc. The lovely S.E. Hinton created them all.**

_**A/N:**__ Thanks for reading and for leaving reviews! They really make my day and help me keep writing, just to know people enjoy it. Hope you enjoy chapter 4!_

Chapter 4:

"Where to, my lady?" Kevin joked, clipping the helmet in place for me under my chin.

"I don't even know." I told him with a shrug. "The arcade?"

"Arcade? Really?" He raised his thick eyebrows skeptically.

"Sure, why not?" I was not about to go with Kevin to the movies late at night. As much as I loved horror flicks, I didn't want him to think it was a date. Besides, he hated horror; the tough guy nearly crawled into my lap during The Shinning. The arcade seemed safe enough and 'cool' enough for a night out.

The motor was too fast to hear each other talk. Heck, it was too loud to hear myself think, and so for once, I did not. I just clung to Kevin's warm body for dear life as the freezing wind whipped around his and the streets of Tulsa blurred by, looking like a new place from this viewpoint.

Once we arrived, I tugged off the helmet and shook my hair free, and Kevin laughed.

"It's a mess, isn't it?" I asked abashed.

"No it's cool, kid." He laughed again, shaking his hand through it.

"Stop it." I swatted him jokingly and went inside the noisy place, where lights flashed and bodies ran around. A chorus of pings and dings with wild clicking played in the background while a voice on the radio screamed at us that he wanted us to want him.

"I love this song!" I nearly shouted to Kevin over all the noise, who preferred heavier stuff. He smiled at me though.

The arcade was not a tough hangout or where the older kids got really drunk. The place had middle school kids, and kids my age and a few boys in Kevin's grade were hogging one of the games, pounding it, shouting, and jumping up and down. Smaller kids watched in amazement and bubble-blowing girls watched bored, asking their boyfriends when the late movie started.

People looked up as we passed. I said hey to a few people from school and they were all friendly. Kevin knew more people, as he always did. He teased some people good-naturedly and made everyone laugh. We waited for an air hockey table to open, and then he humored me by playing a couple of games with me since I'd brought change and loved air hockey, but Kevin had figured out how to trick it into thinking we had paid and had to show me.

That's when I spotted them, the older boys I had thrown the milkshake on. And they spotted me.

"Hey waitress."

Luckily, a girl from school, who I was pretty sure was named Rebecca, walked by and stopped to talk to me, not noticing the boys in across the room. "You're that blonde girl in my class."

"Yeah, I guess I am."

"You're good." Her friend, who obviously liked Kevin, said in earnest eyeing my scores.

"Thanks." I smiled. I was pretty good at it. It felt nice to get a compliment I deserved, awkward like I wasn't sure how to respond, but nice. "Can you show me?"

"Sure! Guys versus girls?"

"Yeah, ok!"

"Hey waitress!" The guy called again. I tried to ignore them.

"Are they talking to you, El?" Kevin said as he whacked the puck our way. "Just watch it, not him; he'll trick you." I told Rebecca.

"You got it, Becky!" Her friend squealed as she slammed the puck in and won us a point.

"Nice!" I said.

"Hey waitress?" This time the voice was soft and low, right behind me. A hand came down and held my mallet in place, allowing Kevin to score.

I whipped around to face them, trying to steel my face. Our faces were inches apart, but our bodies were touching as I stood against the air hockey table, my hand still clutching the mallet he held down behind me. I opened my mouth to speak, but that's when it happened.

He tossed his coke on me, but it mostly splattered down the front of my sweater, thankfully not smearing my make-up. A few people sniggered, but mostly there were gasps.

As the guy who had done it stared at me, his expression grew surprised. He stood in place as I struggle for words, staring me up and down my wet front. It could probably be saved, but the soft sweater, already a little tight, was clinging wet to my body.

"What the heck, Bryan?" Rebecca snapped at the boys she obviously knew. Without thinking, I smiled gratefully at her. I didn't have many girlfriends. I didn't have time to keep up with rich kids and the poor kids, well, they weren't into my type of stuff either. Strangely enough, Uncle Darry kind of got that.

"Hey," the one called Bryan blinked dumbly at me, ignoring Rebecca. "You're kind of cute." Was that supposed to be a compliment? Was that how guys picked up girls now? I could only think of Mr. Darcy we'd read about in English; now there was a man of high moral character to a fault. But this guy was tall and dark and to be fair rather handsome, though I'd never dare admit it. Not if he was going to talk to me like that.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Kevin had already rounded the table apparently. His voice made us both jump out of the trance. He put on his tough guy act. If I didn't know him, I'd be afraid. The guys bristled at him.

"It's fine, Kevin" I told him, not wanting him to get into trouble because of me; it wouldn't be the first time. He'd been playing big brother for me since we were kids. "I can handle it." I said, straightening up to full height, cooling my expression, and swinging my hair behind my shoulder.

"You think you can handle us?" One sniggered.

"And who are you?" The leader asked Kevin. "Her trained attack dog? You look like a Rottweiler." They laughed.

Kevin did help the situation by sort of growling at them.

Another Bites the Dust was ringing clearly through the arcade. A few pings and bings of games pulsated but mostly it was silent. They were all watching, waiting.

"You can handle us, huh?" Another sneered. "You didn't seem to handle us last time. Had to have your daddy step in and save you."

Even Kevin was a little taken aback by that. I guessed I should have told him that little story.

"I thought you were an orphan. I thought you didn't have a dad." Rebecca said.

"I didn't. I mean, he skipped town." I tried to explain. "He sort of came back…"

"Yeah because he's a murderer." The tall guy sneered, his nose shinning.

"He is not." I heard myself say before I could stop it. I tried not to look surprised at myself, though I was surprised at this development.

"Ok babe," the one closest to me said skeptically. "Tell you what I'm willing to forgive you biting me…" He put his other hand on my chin, leaning down even closer.

"Well that's nice of you," I blurted, rolling my eyes and pivoting in an attempt to bail to the other side under his arm, but his hand came to rest on the edge of the table blocking me in smooth move. Damn athletics.

"For a kiss." He finished.

I scoffed, "In your dreams."

"Either you give me a kiss and I forgive you or I get you back for biting the shi—"

Kevin grabbed the guys arm, fingers wrapping all the way around. "I got an idea: either you let the hell go of her or I'll feed you my fist?"

"Let her decide. Women's rights and all that. You gonna let him tell you what to do, baby?" He asked me.

"I'm not telling her what to do; I'm telling _you_ what to do." Kevin clarified, his voice lower and louder, his grip obviously tight, his eyes fierce. He looked tough. He looked scary.

Surprisingly, the guy let go.

"Whatever you say man. But I'll tell you something, waitress, when this kid or your murdering father ain't around, you are gonna have to face me alone. I'll drop by your diner later, honey." They clealy didn't like being told off publically and having to back down.

"You're really a waitress?" Rebecca asked. I nodded, my eyes burning in shame, and ducked out of the crowd immediately.

"Yeah, well, she was tough enough to hurt you once." Kevin called, but we were already exiting. We didn't hesitate to climb aboard his motorcycle and speed off.

The only thing said was Kevin shaking his head and saying, "Damn, girl."

Who was I to be embarrassed anyway? At least I had a job. At least I could pay for my own damn air hockey game. So what if I was a waitress?

Suddenly, I had an idea, to show those kids a thing or two about working and being independent. _I'm thankful I have a job._

I couldn't shout my rant to Kevin's nearby ear over the ruckus of the bike. I couldn't tell him to slow down either. He was mad and he was speeding. I don't know why but truck or car or bicycle or motorcycle, anger always made Kevin race harder forward, as if taking it out on the ground. As if making it so he couldn't see the world anymore would make it really disappear. The feeling wasn't fun anymore. We were going too fast to stop for lights and signs; they were all blurred. It was freezing. My teeth chattered. Kevin was seething so bad he still felt hot against me.

I tried shouting, "Slow down!" But if he responded, I didn't hear. In fact, the only thing I could only hear was the wail of sirens behind us.

I turned a little, not sure how much I could move without risking falling off the bike, and watched the blue lights chasing us.

Kevin wasn't stopping.

"Kevin! Stop!"

"Hold on tight!" he yelled in response.

"Kevin, you idiot!' I began but a sudden burst of wind jerked me and made me shut up and hold on tighter as he said.

We whipped around corners, bending a little too much. The police car continued close behind, joined, I gulped, by another.

Suddenly his plan was clear. We were working our way towards the tracks, but so was a train. Kevin knew how my grandparents had died, leaving my uncles and dad alone at about my age. But he peeled towards that train like a kid playing chicken. Only we were not children. And this was not a game.

"Yahoo!" He yelled like a maniac. I squeezed my eyes shut tight and felt us hit a bump, then air. I waited for the pain of being hit by several tons sideways, my bones caving in on each other, and everything squishing out of me in a red mush. I heard the whistle blowing so loudly it might have been inside my head itself.

But then the whistle was behind us. There was skidding I smelled burned rubbed as we landed with a bump, a wobble, careened out of control. "Shit!" Kevin exclaimed. He jerked me painfully from the bike as he tried to stop it. I opened my eyes to see the trees and empty, dark road spinning around me like I was on a fair ride. And then there were sparks and the screeching of metal. The ground was rushing towards me. I rolled several feet, tasting grass. After a horrible crunching sound, the movement of the bike had also apparently stopped. There was no pain at first what with all the adrenaline.

I thought, _I'm thankful I'm alive_.

We laid on the side of the road panting. I was trying not to pee. Kevin practically pounced on me, "Are you okay, el?" He asked, is face a few inches from mine. His weight was ironically making the pain in my ribs apparent.

"Yea," I nodded, still unsure. As the train continued to pass, I realized we were out of danger until the long line of cars finished. Then, we were dead meat.

Running to his bike, that he kicked at and swore angrily, Kevin confirmed my fears that we were indeed stranded.

"We should hide it."

"Good thinking." Hurriedly and without having to speak much to each other, we covered the bike in the brush, hoping it would be safe until morning. I stowed the helmet there as well. We tossed the little bits of debris in the road. Then, we sprinted across an open lot as the end of the train neared to hide behind a little building.

The cops proceeded over the tracks and down the road without stopping.

"Yes!" He high fived me.

"You're bleeding." I noticed his face was lined by a trickle of red, my smile faltering.

"I'm ok." He shrugged. "Now to walk all the way back home."

"Ugh." I groaned. There was no way. I was freezing, and my legs were already exhausted. It would take forever. The last thing I needed was Pony to come looking for me. Scratch that, the last thing I needed was for those guys to run into us again. "I can't. I'm cold.'

"Take my jacket." He offered his prize leather.

"And my legs hurt."

"Hop on my back." He half joked, like when we were kids.

"Kevin," I snapped, which I usually didn't. His expression changed. "Just call your dad."

"What? Hell no, I'm not calling that useless…" He began.

"We need a ride." I told him.

"Well, you call your dad."

"Oh that doesn't even count."

"And mine does?"

"Look, I'm not walking all the way across Tulsa on a Friday night in the cold. I'm not."

"You scared? I'll protect you." He tried to tease, draping an arm across my shoulders.

"Call two bit or I will tell them all you wrecked a motorcycle with me on it, running from the cops." I looked him dead in the eye.

"Yeah, ok." He agreed, sensing I was serious. We loped slowly to a pay phone. "Got a coin" I gave it to him. He dialed.

"Where are you calling?" I suddenly wondered.

"He's at your house, isn't he?"

Crap.

"Hey it's Kevin, is Two-Bit there?" There was a pause during which he sighed. "Hey. Look, I need a favor. Can you come pick me up? I crashed my bike and I'm across town. No, of course you are drunk. Yeah, no, it's ok. I mean, I should have called a grown up."

I sighed.

"So much for call me whenever you need something huh?" He sort of growled, losing his good humor about it. "No, I don't want Ponyboy."

We exchanged panicked glances.

"No, I don't care if he's sober." Kevin told him "I just don't, ok? Forget it. I'll get a ride. I don't know. Someone sober. Whatever." He hung up.

"So that went well." I smiled, trying to keep him from being mad at me.

He scoffed and leaned against the payphone.

"I guess we should start walking." I shrugged.

He handed me his coat, but I objected. It was slow going but he was thinking the same thing I was, "At least the cops won't recognize us without the bike."

"Man, they must think we disappeared into thin air." I laughed. I didn't feel like laughing though. I felt like crawling into a warm bed and sleeping a month.

"You know, most girls would be pretty mad at me for wrecking like that."

"I'm not mad."

"I know." He said. "You're not most girls." I shook my head and smiled tiredly, confused.

"Hey kid," A man slowing his truck beside us banged his fist against its sides. We ignored it. "Kid!'

"What do you want?" Kevin demanded, murmuring to me to just keep walking. All of the sudden some of my energy returned. This guy looked rough.

"Your pops sent me to give you a ride. And I guess your girlfriend there. Name's Shepard."

I stopped and squinted. "Yeah he came by the house earlier. Their old pal." I said. Kevin nodded, sizing up the guy and we climbed in the old pickup's cab. It was a tight squeeze, and Kevin made me sit on the outside so the guy couldn't flirt or anything, I guess. It was awkward anyway, and not just because the man's hand kept having to go in between Kevin's knees to shift gears, but also because no one spoke. It only took a few minutes to drive across town that late at night, but they were long minutes.

Shepard did speak once, "You Ponyboy's girl?" he asked. I tried to lean around Kevin like talking from sides of a tree.

"Yep." I told him.

"He's a nice guy."

I didn't really know whether to agree or not, so I said nothing. When we arrived, I opened the door before we fully stopped.

"Thanks!" We called.

"No problem." Shepard insisted, slamming the door and driving off with a wave. I exhaled slowly. Kevin gave a low whistle.

"It's late."

"It's early." He corrected, still energized. "See you later."

"Ok, goodnight." I handed him his jacket.

He waited until I was safely inside, like he always did, before walking on to his mom's. I crept quietly in the deserted house, but an unexpected voice from the couch spooked me. It was quieter than Darry, but the tone was, so firm I thought maybe it was him with a cold until I turned and faced Pony in the lamplight. He did not look pleased.

I opened my mouth to tell him something, but his words threw me off so much I completely forgot what. "I know I have no right to tell you when to be in, but I would think you could have just a little more curtsey."

I sort of blinked as he stood, but his voice and face grew more concerned than angry.

"Not only is it dangerous to be out at night, by yourself, without telling anyone where you are, but it also was a little insensitive, as I just had to basically go through one of the worst memories of my youth."

Well, it wasn't as though I had thought about that. Geez. I didn't know how he was doing it, but he was actually making this out to be my fault.

"Are you alright? Are you hurt or anything?"

Actually, I was hurt, but I wasn't going to tell him that. "I'm okay."

"Good." I walked away, wondering how in a single day I'd gone from abandoned to the bad guy. And he was the one people were calling a murderer. Whatever that was about. How did you ask that?_ So, dad you ever kill anyone?_

"Do you want to talk, El?"

"I'm really tried."

"Okay." He sat back down. Was he disappointed? "Goodnight. I won't wake you when I leave early then. I'll see you after work though, right?"

"Sure." I answered automatically as I closed the door to my room.

This was a strange development. I tried to think of how I felt about, it all but the only thought I seemed able to form was being thankful for sleep, and I'd never write an entire paper about that. I groaned, remembering that I'd have to finish it this weekend. It was my last thought before sleep.

_**A/N:**__ Well? What did you think of Bryan, Rebecca and Kevin? What about Pony's reaction? A murderer? Hmmm. Let me know in quick review, please!_


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I do NOT own the Outsiders.

A/N: Sorry for the delay. Hope you enjoy the new, longer chapter! Thanks for reading.

Chapter 5:

When I woke and pulled off my covers, I instantly regretted moving. Ever. My legs were still sore from the previous day. The shoulder the tough guys had wrenched out was still sensitive too, but now so were my ribs and one of my knees from landing off the bike. The knee was badly skinned and my ribcage was one ugly bruise. I cleaned the wound on my knee with peroxide and put a band aide on it, opting for long pants as I tugged on my work uniform. Thankfully, the house was quiet, everyone else feeling pretty poorly themselves besides Pony, whom had already left. Darry gave me a ride to work.

I didn't dare hop out as I usually did, but climbed down carefully. "You okay?" He asked knowingly.

I nodded.

"Have a good one."

"You too; thanks for the ride."

He nodded and drove off. I went inside the diner, breath held. I was half expecting to see the guys waiting for me there, but they weren't in yet. I thought of calling Kevin to hang out there until I got off, but he wasn't an early riser. With any luck, neither were these punks, since I came in for brunch rush and left after lunch rush ended on Saturday. Maybe they would assume I always worked dinner and come in after I left.

"Morning, Lois."

"Thank god you're here, El!"

At this, I laughed aloud. Yep, I was definitely thankful I had a job. It was nice to be appreciated. For the next couple hours, I hurriedly took and delivered orders, refilled glasses, wiped up spills, smiled, and pocketed tips. And the harder I worked, the more I stayed busy, the faster the time passed. I did, however, keep eyeing the door every few minutes, waiting for those boys to come in the diner.

"Looking for someone?" Lois winked.

I shook my head.

"Something on your mind, kiddo?"

"Just a paper I have to write." I lied. Well, it was not entirely a lie.

"Not anything about your dad?" She raised an eyebrow.

"Lois, the first day he showed you up, you said the cops would recognize him."

"Yep."

"Well, it's just a kid from school said something about him having killed someone. You know anything about that?"

"I do. But do you know who would know everything about that?"

"Who?" I wondered aloud.

"Him." She gave me a stern look.

Signing, I left the kitchen. She was right. But this was not an easy conversation to have. My curiosity was killing me though, so I decided to at least ask why someone would call him a murderer when I dropped by tonight. If I dropped by tonight. I wasn't sure I would really feel like it.

Before I knew it, things were winding down in the diner and the decision loomed nearer.

"Hey there." A familiar voice surprised me at the bar.

"Hey." I greeted Ponyboy Curtis.

"Thought I'd grab some lunch. Couldn't think it of anywhere better. Hope it's not embarrassing."

"No it's fine." I couldn't help but be a tad relieved he was there. After all, the guys had said they would wait until I was lone, most likely afraid of him since they were convinced he was a killer and all. I glanced at the door again. "What can I get you?" I asked said killer politely.

"Just a cheeseburger, please. You had any more trouble here recently?"

I shook my head, glad he had specified 'here', since I was such a terrible liar. I went about my business.

"Thanks." He said when I brought him his plate. The place was clearing out by then. I couldn't avoid talking to him.

"You're welcome. How'd the moving go?"

"Slower than I expected. Still working on it."

The fateful ding sounded at last and my head shipped towards the door. The boys smirked at me as they stepped in the door. Pony turned to look.

"Oh no you don't. Not in my place." Lois called before they even made it to a table. They looked disappointed as they left, except the one. He was grinning at me wickedly.

"Want me to give you a ride?" Pony offered. I gave him a small smile, but shook my head. I'd rather wait them out.

"Go ahead, I'm not paying you overtime." Lois urged with a wink.

"You did say you'd come over after any way. Don't know where it is on your own yet, do you?" He tried somewhat tentatively.

I rolled my eyes and tugged off my apron in defeat. It was painfully awkward following Pony out to his truck, but not as painful as it would have been without him I hazarded a guess based on the looming guys at the end of the street. I glared in their direction. If they looked disappointed before, it was nothing to how they looked at that point—like a dog who had just had a juicy steak pulled out from under their nose as the last minute, leaving their teeth to clamp together with snap.

"You okay?" Pony asked, following my glance and giving the boys a dark scowl. I jumped, forgetting he was there. He held the passenger door open for me, waiting. I wasn't used to that, but I clamored into the cab of the truck in the least graceful manner possible, wincing.

"Shoulder still bothering you?" He asked as he buckled himself in. I began to make my head, but then tried to turn it into a nod half way through. He was clearly suspicious, but aside from looking me up and down, he let it go. I was grateful for that. But that was no paper topic.

I could imagine the look of horror on my teacher's face as he read it: _I'm thankful my prodigal father doesn't ask too many questions, or I'd have to explain about the violent group of guys harassing me or that my best friend and I were in a motorcycle accident while running from the cops. And that would be an awkward conversation._

He must have smiled my smile. "I'm really excited for you to see the house." He said. I tried to smiled, but I don't think I did a very good job. The rest of the ride was quiet, but short.

The house was cute, a small place not far from Darry's and not much bigger, but the yard was nicer and the neighborhood a little better too. It had green shutters and some flowers in the front I noticed as we pulled up next to a freshly painted mailbox with the name Curtis on it.

I climbed out of the cab was he did, landing on my knee which buckled immediately under me.

"El!"

"I'm fine." I mumbled, my eyes watering. He wrapped an arm around me to help pull me up, but it squeezed my ribs and I couldn't help the garbled noise that escaped me. "Damn it!" I breathed, furious with myself. I couldn't make my leg do I wanted my eyes stop being ridiculous and allow me to see clearly or my mouth from making me sound like an attention seeking wuss.

"Hey," He said softly. "Was this those boys again?"

His voice was kind, but deep. He was serious.

"Let me see." He commanded. I shook my head.

He sighed as I tried to jerk away but he wrapped an arm around my shoulder so that I only retreated further into the crook of it. "Let me see." He repeated. I fought and wriggled for a moment, but he won and pulled up the sleeves of my sweater to check my wrists. Nothing.

"Shoulder still bothering you?" I nodded. "What else?" he tired. I said nothing. I didn't want Kevin to get in trouble.

Gently, he placed a hand on my knee. I tried to keep a straight face when he squeezed the hurt one. Sighing, he pulled my hair back from my neck to inspect it. Nothing.

"Let's go inside." He said as the wind blew my hair all over my face. It was getting cold out. I followed him through the little front gate, walked up to the porch where he opened the front door for me. I stepped in and surveyed the living room strewn with boxes.

"You like it?" he asked, a little excited.

"Well, yeah. So what can I do?"

"For starters you can help me shelve the bookshelf."

We sat on the floor and went through a few boxes of books, not talking really. I didn't mind as walking or talking while breathing was growing increasingly difficult. I read the spine of each one trying to picture where he bought it or who gave it to him. Occasionally I opened one out of curiosity and read a little.

"You know you can borrow those whenever you want." He said, watching me.

"Thanks." I said, setting the one in hand back on the shelf. It didn't make any sense to me.

"Sorry we have to sit on the floor. They are bringing the furniture tomorrow. I found a great consignment shop. Wow you are already done with your side. You're a fast worker."

I shrugged, appreciating the compliment. I was getting hot working inside where the heat was on, so without thinking I tugged off my sweater as I grabbed the next box. He shocked me so much I dropped it.

"What the hell? Those bastards! When did this happen?" he shouted. I froze. My shirt must have been pulled up and exposed the bruises. I really didn't know what to do as he stood next to me with one hand lingering gently on my uninjured shoulder. In a sick way, his concern felt…nice, but then he said something made any inklings of warm, fuzy feelings turn to ice.

"I'll kill them!"

"It was an accident." I said blurted.

"An accident? You're black and blue. It's a wonder if those ribs rent cracked and you're limping! I've noticed."

"No, I mean it wasn't the boys. Kevin wrecked his bike."

"A motorcycle? Who is Kevin? Your boyfriend? Two Bits son?" He shook his head repeatedly as if trying to get out the confusion.

"He's not my boyfriend!"

"Well, from what I heard he wishes he was." He said, placing his hands on his hips as he calmed a little.

"What?" It was my turn to be confused. I went on, "He felt really awful but it wasn't his fault, hit a bump, bike went out control. Lucky for me he had insisted I wear his helmet and we were both wearing a lot of clothes because of the weather."

"Well, you need to be careful, and if Kevin isn't you need to not ride with him. You both need to be safer. And next time you get hurt, tell someone. It could be serious."

"Ok I will." I picked my box up, but he took it from me, carrying it back to where we were sitting as we worked.

"I still don't understand why you didn't mention being hurt if you weren't doing anything you shouldn't have been…" He was skeptical.

I changed the subject. "You have a lot of these." I said, secretly pleased at his mini library collection. He grinned broadly.

"Yeah." He sounded proud for the first time.

"So you went to college I guess since you're a teacher…"

He coughed and cleared his throat a little. This was the first time I had asked about something that happened while he was away.

"Yeah I did." I saw him watching me out of the corner of his eye. "In another state. I had a scholarship and I'd saved some money and Darry gave me some of his savings even though I fought it, but it still took me a while to work my way through. Your mom insisted I go; said I'd do more good with a degree than I would hanging around in a town where no one would hire me..." he trailed off and I was thinking: because you are a killer?

"Anyway, I Had to borrow some from this program that lets you repay by teaching in really isolated areas. So I did that for a few years too. That's why it was hard to contact me at first. I had one place the only way to get to was by plane or boat—"

"You couldn't call?" I snapped. His reason for leaving made sense, an education then work but it didn't make sense to just act like he didn't have a kid. He looked as if I'd slapped him, so I averted my eyes, realizing my tone had been harsher than I meant it to be. 'Not that I care,' I should have said.

"Sorry," I mumbled, sorry for embarrassing myself and nothing more.

His response took a second, like he was choosing his words carefully, but it came out quickly as if on its own, surprising me. "I wanted to take you with me." I looked at him. "Your mother wouldn't let me. I knew you needed her. I meant to come back sooner any way. I really did, but things happened. Things I can explain."

"Why did you leave her?"

He seemed surprised by that question and that angered me. "I mean if you'll just leave your wife—

"El, I admired your mother very much and I'm glad we made you, but we were never married."

"W-what?"

"Did someone tell you that?" He asked. My mouth sort of opened and closed like a fish. Actually, no. no one ever did say that specifically, but no one said they weren't… I thought of all the names my mom went by….Miss Valence. Slowly, I shook my head. Everyone had conveniently failed to mention that.

"I'm sorry." He said, recognizing my shock. Why wouldn't I be? Why had no one said anything? They didn't want me to know my mother was an unwed, single mother? Didn't want me to know I was born out of wedlock? So he hadn't left his family, not really. He'd left me, just me. He'd left behind being a father for an education and a job. And the worst part was, I couldn't blame him. The poor guy didn't come back to grieve her, he'd come back because someone had to responsible for me.

I knew my eyes were watering again, but I didn't care. I hated the way he was looking at me. With pity. That's why he came back. That was it. I didn't want to live with that look the rest of my life. "Can I have some ice? My knee hurts."

"Sure. I'll be right back." I could tell he saw through my lame excuse, and he took longer than necessary to fetch the ice giving me time to wipe me eyes.

"We should probably get over to Darry's. He is making dinner." He said as he passed me the ice. "I want to show you something before we go."

I nodded and pulled myself up by the shelf, following as headed down the hallway. I eyed the front doorway like I needed an escape route, then shook my head at myself, coming to a stop at the end of the short hallway with my arms wrapped around myself.

He pushed open a white door to a room of soft green and lavender. It had a nice double bed with a matching green bed set, a small desk, a proper dresser with mirror painted lavender too. Around the lavender curtained windows, green vines were painted. On the closet door hung a full length mirror. The room was simple and not overly feminine. But it was nice.

"What do you think?" he asked in a proud voice, and that's when it occurred to me he had done this. Who knows how much work, if he room had already been green or what, but he had bought the curtains and bed. That's what he had been working on today.

"Nice." I stared at it, somehow afraid to go inside.

"Yea I thought it was a little more girly than me and soda's old room."

I turned to face him. It was the closest we had been since he picked me off that floor. He was on one side of the doorframe I was on the other. "You actually want me to move in with you" I asked, searching his response sharply.

"Of course." He said in earnest, almost hurt I would ask. "But I do have to warn you," he crossed his arms. "There will be rules." His tone was joking but he wasn't, I was sure.

"Like?" I asked cautiously.

"Like a curfew for one."

"What sort of curfew?"

"Well I think that's something we can talk about once you get in."

"Oh no, if I'm going, I want to know what I'm getting into beforehand." I said jokingly, swinging my arms like a ref, but I wasn't joking either.

"Ok," he laughed. "How about for your freshman year of high school…nine on school nites, but longer for special functions like dances or sports. Ten on weekends and summer, eleven if I know where you are."

I whistled. "Sounds more like elementary school to me."

"I can't imagine Cherry was must more lax." He was critical. He was right. I shrugged.

"Well, I guess you're gonna get lonely over here." I laughed teasingly, but looked at the room again. It was beautiful. It smelled nice.

I really did not understand anything that was going on—did he want me or did he just feel guilty? Did that rich jock want to kiss me or beat me up? And was Kevin my surrogate big brother or secret admirer?

"Well," he shifted. "I think Darry could use some privacy too."

I blinked. Darry hadn't said anything, but of course Darry wouldn't. I swallowed hard. Is that why he tried so hard to get a hold of my father? So he would come back and take me off his hands?

And men say women are confusing. For the first time since her death, I asked myself what my mother would do in a situation like this, since none of the men in my life were making sense. And that's when I realized, she'd do the opposite of what they were doing: she'd say exactly what she thought.

"Look, you don't have to stay. I really can take care of myself. I have a job and I'm doing just fine in school too. If I'm in the way for Darry, I can stay with Kevin or Lois or something."

"No, no that's not what I meant." He tried, but he'd already lost me. I turned away from the room, wishing for some reason that I'd never seen it. "El, wait. Darry loves you, I just meant—"

I'd already reached the front door, but at this I whipped around, ignoring my protesting knee. "Nobody loves me but my momma, and she's dead." That shut him up. It was true, not another human being had ever said that. Feeling angry and hurt, I narrowed my eyes as I informed him. "I don't know you and I don't know that I want to know you. People say awful stuff about you being a killer while Darry and Two Bit act like you hung the moon, but even if I do want to get to know you, I do not need you, you got that? I never had a father and you've never been one and that worked out just fine for both of us until now. I don't need Darry." I raised my voice, stepping towards him with each sentence, feeling my whole body burning. "And I don't need Kevin either. Cherry Valance did just fine on her own, and I can too."

Realizing I'd run out of things to shout at him, I turned around and ran. "El!" He shouted, but did not pursue me. That was it. I was tired of them all treating me like a damn egg that couldn't be dropped. I would prove them wrong, and then maybe they would leave me alone. I wasn't sure I wanted to be alone, but it had to be better than being kept like a puppy by people who felt sorry for poor little you.

El Dorado Curtis was about to show everyone she was no puppy. If people weren't going to be up front with me, I'd just have to make them say what they meant. Trembling with rage so much I couldn't even feel the pain anymore or the cold without my sweater, I found myself walking towards town. I was done running from trouble, I thought with my fists banging against my thighs. I was looking for a fight.

_I ain't thankful for crap._

_A/N: Well? A little shocking. What is going to happen next? How do you feel about El and he men troubles? Please leave a review! Pretty please?_


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